Twists and Turns
by Nyroc
Summary: Nightbloom's life starting at late kithood. All ideas involving Warriors belong to Erin Hunter. All settings, names, Clans, ect. belong to MorningClan. Thank RuastfruofMorningClan for idea. Rated so for violence in later chapters
1. Alone

A thick mist swirled repeatedly over the moor, catching the morning sun's rays as it rose above the horizon. Light pattering of pawsteps echoed through the nearly empty grassland. A scrawny dark gray cat was weaving through the tall grass, heading towards the thick line of trees that rose ahead of her. A rabbit dangled from her jaws as she pelted along.

Soon, she reached the trees and quickly darted into them, blending well with the shadows cast by the sun. The gray she-cat traveled on, and when she came to a small creek, she made a sharp turn left. Diving into a bramble thicket, the gray cat flickered her ears forward at the sound of her kits. "Quiet you two," she hissed gently. "I don't want to be caught by another TwilightClan patrol. Then we'll have to move again."

The she-cat dropped the rabbit and flopped down exhaustedly, panting. Even the small effort of catching a rabbit completely exhausted her. She had been very sick, and was not fully healed yet.

The two kits, about apprentice age, scrambled over to their mother, one was a she-cat, totally black with white flecks on her hind legs, the other was a muscular, glossy black tom with crimson eyes.

"Mum, are you alright?" the she-kit asked, taking a bite from the fresh-kill. The gray she-cat was panting hard and coughing. The two kits looked worried.

The gray she-cat managed a weak smile. "I'm fine. Please, don't worry about me and eat." She nudged the rabbit closer to her kits.

The crimson tom shared the meal with his sister. The she-cat's breathing stopped as she rested her head on the ground. "Shh, mum's asleep," the tom said, taking another ravenous bite from the rabbit. The kits finished eating. "Let's play-fight!" the she-kit suggested, springing up to her paws and waving her tail.

The other tom grinned and leapt at his sister. She dodged out of the way, sliding to the left, and pushing on her front paws, launching herself into the air. Whipping his head around, the tom braced himself as his sister crashed ungracefully onto him. The two tussled for while.

The tom was getting the better of his sister, and when she paused for a heartbeat to catch her breath, he threw himself at her, knocking her into the air.

With a squeak, she landed atop her mother's flank, then tumbled onto the ground. Her mother didn't move. She froze and whirled around to face the gray she-cat. With huge, lightning blue eyes, she pressed her muzzle to her mother's flank. It was icily cold.

"No!" the kit wailed, collapsing onto the older cat's body. The tom darted over. "She's dead!" the she-kit wailed, sobbing. "She's gone! What will we do?"

The tom looked shocked, but an idea faintly glimmered in his eyes. "We should join a Clan," he said with a solemn nod. The other she-cat shook her head. "No, never! We're rouges! We'll never be accepted into a Clan."

He shook his head. "We're rouge KITS. Every Clan is always looking for new warriors." His sister's lightning eyes swelled with tears, and her ears pressed against her skull. "But… how?"

The pure black tom pressed his muzzle to hers. "We should split up. I'll go to one Clan, you go to another. That way, they'll be less suspecting."

The she-kit still looked surprised and sad. She looked up and snatched a small white flower that wove around brambles. She laid the flower on her mother's chest, before slipping out of the den, her brother following.

"I'll go to TwilightClan," the tom said, licking his sister's cheek. "You go to MorningClan. They're east, over there." He flicked his tail over the creek.

The she-cat 's tears were tried now. "I don't think I can split up with you!" she cried. She squeezed her eyes shut. "I don't want you to leave me. I'll be all alone. First mother, now you?"  
She opened her blue eyes and yowled in surprise. Her brother was gone! She called his name, her only response was a whistle of the wind as it danced between leaves. Hanging her head, she started towards the MorningClan border. Tall trees loomed overhead. She pressed her ears flat again, looking around, frightened. She suddenly felt lost. And scared.

And Alone.


	2. What was this feeling?

Bloodfang held his head high, pure black coat glistening. He had just received his warrior name, Bloodfang. Dewstar looked down to the new warrior. "Welcome to TwilightClan." The cats began to crowd around him, cheering his new name. The dark tom smiled. He finally felt accepted. He had been living as rouge for the beginning of his life, with his sister and mother. When his mother died, they went different ways. Now, he felt fully accepted into his new Clan. He knew the others trusted him fully, even though he was once a rouge.

Later on that night, when he was sitting vigil in the center of the camp alone, his ears twitched forward. Turning his head, he heard a small rustling in the bushes that surrounded camp. Hackles rising, he pulled from his sitting position and padded to the source of the noise.

He ducked into a thorny thicket, then snarled, unsheathing his claws. Before him was a cowering kit, perhaps apprentice age, with the strong scent of kittypet. "What are you doing here, little one?" Bloodfang growled, advancing. The ginger kit cowered, flattening himself as close to the ground as he could. "I-I'm s-s-sorry! I was j-just curious about you C-C-Clan cats!" the kit whimpered, glancing around for a quick getaway exit. There was none.

"Curious?" Bloodfang sneered, extending his long, thick claws. The kits whimpered louder and was shaking now. "Haven't you ever heard that one saying?" The young cat squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm sorry! I'm Sorry! I shouldn't have come, let me go!" he pleaded, tears welling up.

Bloodfang bent down low, evening his eyes with the kit's. "Oh, I'll let you go, don't worry," he said, whiskers twitching a grin. "Just remember this."

He lowered his maw to the kit's ear.

" 'Curiosity killed the kit.' "

Bloodfang slashed out his claws and the kit squeaked for a heartbeat. Something coursed through his veins, and a smile curled up his maw.

What was this feeling?

That strange feeling when he heard the kit yelp? It felt good. He picked the kittypet up in his maw and carried him to the center of camp.

Crystalfur, a white she-cat with yellowish splotches, was eating a late-night piece of fresh-kill, when she saw the dead kit. "StarClan! Bloodfang, what happened?" she yowled. Soon other cats emerged, sleepy, but curious. Dewstar wove up to Bloodfang. "Explain," he said gruffly.

"I caught this kittypet outside of our camp," he snarled, sheathing his claws and tossing the body to Dewstar's paws. The gray leader drew back a few paces, then bent over to examine the body. "A kit?!" he yowled, bewildered.

"A spy nevertheless," the black tom snorted.

"You imbecile!" the TwilightClan leader yowled, leaping at Bloodfang. The new warrior hissed and drew back a few steps. "He was a kit! A KIT! Did we kill you when we first saw you?" Dewstar snarled, hackles rising, shoulders forward was though he was ready to slice Bloodfang's throat. But, the silver leader sighed, and sat back on his haunches. " You get one more chance. You're a warrior now, Bloodfang, so start acting like it." Dewstar shot a glance to a brown tabby elder. "Brokenheart, burry the kit. Clan dismissed!" Dewstar sprang away.

As the TwilightClan cats passed the black tom, they shot hostile looks at him, a few even spat at his paws. "Call yourself a warrior?" a silver queen jeered, lunging at him with a snarl. "I don't want you ANYWHERE near my kits!"

Bloodfang remained where he was, his head hung low, hiding his face. Only he could tell, but his face revealed an evil grin. He liked the feeling of killing. It was novel to him. And StarClan did he like it!

"C'mon, Nightbloom, you're up for midday patrol!"

With a groan, a black she-cat rolled over on her side. She yawned widely, and stretched her white-flecked legs. "Must you be so loud, Lihtanheart?" she mewed, opening her lightning blue eyes slowly.   
The creamy white she-cat before her purred. "C'mon, you've been a warrior for a couple sunrises now. You should know the routines by now, Nightbloom."

The black she-cat yawned again, then hopped to her paws, shaking her glossy pelt. She followed Lihtanheart outside of the warrior's den. It was a beautiful afternoon, and the cats of MorningClan were bustling about camp. Nightbloom had enjoyed her nap very much. She now studied the camp.

Swiftflight was sharing a rabbit with his mate, Streakfire. The kits were out playing. Redfur, the deputy, was beside Graystorm. Blackbeam and Cuppool, the two medicine cats, were treating a queen, Gypsyfur, that was expecting kits.

Nightbloom drew in a deep, fresh breath, and with a smile, padded forward with Lihtanheart to the camp entrance. There, she met Lionclaw and Rustfur, waiting for them. The group started out on dawn patrol.

The black she-cat bounded along in graceful strides, checking over the scents that wafted through the air. Nothing unusual.

As she padded on, the pretty black she-cat thought, taking in deep, steady breaths.

What was this feeling?

Nightbloom loved this feeling. She loved how she could run with her Clanmates, accepted, wanted, needed. It made her feel useful.

When she was a young rouge, she never had this feeling before. Though she missed her brother and mother dearly, it felt wonderful to be accepted into a sort of a family again.

Hopping over a fallen tree, she padded up to the StoneClan border. All was well here too.

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Lionclaw said with a gruff nod. "That's a change."

Rustfur and Lihtanheart nodded in agreement. "Let's go back," the ginger tom said, turning back towards camp. "I promised I'd go to the gathering tonight."

"Oh yeah!" Nightbloom piped up with a nod. "I'm going too!"

Lihtanheart purred. "You lead then," she mewed, nudging the she-cat.

Nightbloom purred and shot forward, leading the patrol through the forest. Her blue eyes scanned ahead of her as she bounded along. Soon, camp came into view, and she smiled. She slowed her pace and padded through the entryway. Cats were already lining up near the camp entrance, eagerly waiting to leave for the gathering.

Padding to the fresh-kill pile, Nightbloom quickly ate a mouse, and then joined the group. This was her third gathering, and she was excited. She wanted to see her brother again. "I wonder what his warrior name is?" she thought aloud, tipping her head.

A small calico she-cat padded towards the head of the group, and Nightbloom looked up. It was Rainstar, MorningClan's leader. Flanking her was Redfur and Blackbeam.

"Alright, MorningClan! Let's move!" Redfur yowled, spinning around and bounding out of camp. Those chosen to attend the gathering followed closely behind.

Soon, MorningClan arrived at the gathering spot, the second Clan to meet there. The other Clan present was TwilightClan.

Immediately, Nightbloom shot over towards her brother.

He looked up, a strange grin vanishing. "Sister!" he meowed, pressing his muzzle into her fur.

The young she-cat looked to him. "My name's Nightbloom," she said proudly, tail swishing. The darker-than-black tom grinned. "My name's Bloodfang now as well!" he told her with a smile.

They talked for a wile as they waited for SnowClan and StoneClan to meet them. Nightbloom sensed something in her brother. "Is something troubling you?" she asked him.

He looked over to her, blinking his blood-red eyes. "No, I'm fine. Just, something really cool happened."

Nightbloom was suddenly interested and she smiled. "Really? What was it?

"I killed another cat."

All traces of happiness drained from Nightbloom's body.

What was this feeling?


	3. Deepscar

"That's not a good thing!" Nightbloom shrieked, hackles bristling. Why did Bloodfang think killing was okay?

Bloodfang's maw curled in a smile. "Oh, it was. It felt so good. You should try it sometime," he said, turning to look up at Dewstar, who was keeping a close eye on the new TwilightClan warrior. Bloodfang grinned up at his leader, and Dewstar bared his teeth.

Nightbloom's ears were laid back. "That was really bad. I don't believe you," she huffed, standing and turning away from her brother.

"See you later."

She trotted away to sit beside Bluestorm, a friend of hers in MorningClan. She let out a breathy sigh, then looked up to the Great Rock. She didn't see the other two Clans enter the hollow, and now Whitestar, Dewstar, Rainstar, and Brightstar were all sitting side by side on the rock, shooting glances down to their Clans. Silence entered the hollow.

"I'll start," Whitestar said, standing. "Thunderbloom died giving birth this moon, but she left us with a beautiful kit, Silverkit. We also have a new warrior, Copperheart."

Whitestar fondly flicked her tail to a solid ginger tom at the base of the rock. He wore a cheeky smile and his bright blue eyes glimmered.

"Otherwise, StoneClan has been doing well."

Birghtstar, the SnowClan leader, stood next. "Two new apprentices," she said flatly. "Sparrowpaw and Icepaw."

Rainstar was next, and she drew in a deep breath, making her normally small and lithe body seem bigger. "We have a couple new warriors. Nightbloom, is one of them." The calico leader flicked her tail down to Nightbloom, who merely looked up to her leader. Cheers broke out from MorningClan, and she couldn't help but smile.

Dewstar was last. The elderly silver tom gazed down to the cats. "We had a visitor," he sneered, his eyes flickering down to Bloodfang, who held his head high. "A young kittypet, but we've taken care of him. Keep an eyes out, my fellow Clans, for spies."  
Nightbloom let out a relieved sigh. She was glad he didn't say any more.

Soon, the Clans departed from the hollow, and Nightbloom left without saying goodbye to the darker-than-black tom.

Upon arriving back at camp, Nightbloom immediately crawled into her den and fell asleep. Something just had made her exhausted.

Nightbloom awoke from a lazy dream she couldn't remember. With a wide yawn, she stretched her freckled hind legs, then padded outside. She headed over to the fresh-kill pile and started devouring a starling, her back turned to the rest of the Clan.

"How could you?!"

She nearly jumped out of her fur at the screech that echoed through the camp. Whipping her head around, she saw a furious Streakfire ready to claw out a large tom's eyes. He was solid ginger and had a clear scar across his left forepaw. Nightbloom had never seen this tom before.

"Hey, Bluestorm?" Nightbloom caught sight of the she-cat and rushed up to her. "Who's the newcomer? And why is Streakfire so freaked out?"

"You left us!" Streakfire yowled, lashing at the tom again. "You left ME!"

Bluestrom's ears flattened. "Oh, that's Deepscar, or so Rainstar tells me. Apparently, he was once MorningClan's deputy, and Streakfire's soon-to-be mate. But, depression troubled him. Troubled him enough to make him leave MorningClan. I wonder why he came back…?" she mewed thoughtfully.

"Oh, thanks," Nightbloom said, then trotted over to the crowd of cats.

Swifflight, Streakfire's mate was coaxing and calming her as best he could. Though, it didn't really seem to be working.

As Streakfire shouted at Deepscar, Nightbloom's gaze flickered to the ginger tom. He was muscular and very powerful looking. He had bright butterscotch colored eyes that were thoughtful and caring. "I can see why Rainstar chose him for deputy," Nightbloom murmured.

After a while of yowling, the crowd broke away from Deepscar, leaving him alone at the camp entrance, tail curled around his paws.

Out of pure pity, Nightbloom chose a fat pigeon from the fresh-kill pile. She took it over to Deepscar.

"Here," she said, dropping it at his scarred feet. He looked up to her, his eyes meeting hers. "You look like you haven't eaten in a moon."

A tiny smile flashed across Deepscar's face. "I haven't, thanks."

He hastily took large bites from the bird. Nightbloom watched him eat.

"What's your name?" Deepscar asked, munching on the pigeon.

"Hm? Oh, it's Nightbloom."

"Nightbloom…" Deepscar echoed. "I like it."


	4. Climax

Most of the cats in MorningClan had kept their backs turned from Deepscar. They still treated him like a warrior, sending him on daily patrols and such. But not many cats spoke to him if they didn't need to. Only Nightbloom would talk with him and share fresh-kill on her own free time.

Nightbloom sighed. She hoped that this foggy tension between Deepscar and her other Clanmates would clear eventually. After all, Deepscar came back, didn't he? Why was everyone so angry with him?

The next few days were uneventful. The tensions seemed to ebb away finally, and more cats became friendlier towards Deepscar. But the one who was with him the most was still Nightbloom. Together, the shared memories and problems. Faults and corrections. Losses and victories. The two were such great friends.

"Deepscar!" Redfur called across the clearing. The ginger tom looked up. He was perched on an orange-brown rock that many cats used for sunning themselves.

"You. Hunt. Now." The deputy called to him. She padded out of sight.

With a lazy yawn, the large ginger tom hopped from his rock and padded directly over to a black she-cat with lightning blue eyes. "Nightbloom?" he called softly as he poked his head into the warrior's den.

His call was answered by a mew from the cave. "Hunting patrol? Coming," she mewed, brushing past the ginger tom.

Deepscar nodded with a smile. "Let's go." The pair padded from camp.

"So I was thinking," Nightbloom mewed to Deepscar as they padded towards a ridge. "Do you think I'll EVER get an apprentice?"

Deepscar laughed and licked her ear. "Of course you will. I had one when I was deputy, although I can't recall her name." He shrugged.

Nightbloom smiled, then dropped to a crouch. She shot forward and caught a vole between her front paws. She took it back to a tall oak tree with no leaves and set it at its base.

"Great catch!" Deepscar said, coming from behind her with a robin hanging from his maw by its wing.

Nightbloom grinned. "You too," she mewed, pressing her shoulder to his.

-The reader may be thinking this is the end of the story. That Nightbloom and Deepscar get their "Happily Ever After." Well, it may be. But only for one character. If you were to choose between a love and a family, what would it be? Who would it be? Between becoming a traitor or between becoming a mate? Are you confused? Yes? Good. Let's continue.-

---

Bloodfang was curled by himself in the dark warrior's den, but he was wide-awake. He needed to kill something. He shivered, though he didn't know why. It was Greenleaf.

With a lazy yawn he hauled himself up and padded from the den. It was eerily quiet out in the camp. The black tom slipped out through the bramble ridge that formed the camp entrance and drew in a breath.

Turning sharply, he scrambled and leaped on a magpie.

He sunk his claws deep into the bird's flesh. It squawked nosily as Bloodfang tossed it up it the air, and then caught it again with his long translucent claws, (He hadn't cut them in a while, and they were now curling under his paws) tearing out feathers and shredding wings. The bird was dead soon and Bloodfang let it fall to the ground. Hunting didn't still his craving for murder.

With a growl, he padded to the border and prowled past it. He was bored with TwilightClan. He thought for a moment, then had an idea. He would go and "see" Nightbloom. He padded forward with a smile, but he met a small hunting patrol of two cats from SnowClan. He killed them both. He took no care in hiding their bodies as he neared the MorningClan border. He caught the scent of his sister and a strange cat. A tom, he observed.

Bloodfang stealthily slipped into the shelter of a cluster of bushes as Nightbloom and a ginger tom came into sight.

Nightbloom dove for a chipmunk and caught it between her front paws. She added it to their growing pile, and the ginger cat said, "Nice catch!"

Bloodfang sprang and tackled his sister to the ground. "Hiya, sis!" he yowled.

Nightbloom screamed and managed to reverse their positions, putting her on top of Bloodfang, but with a slash, the black tom tore open her throat. With a grunt, he thrusted his legs forward, launching her into a cliff.

Nightbloom was extremely dizzy, and could feel her own blood trickling over her fur. "Deepscar…" StarClan was coming to claim her life. With a breeze, she was gone.

The ginger tom had been frozen to the spot. His butterscotch eyes now turned on the opposing tom. "You killed… her…" he panted, fur rising. His eyes became fire. "You… killed HER!" He unsheathed his claws and sprang.

"YOU KILLED HER!!"


End file.
